The Trials of a Hero
by duskclobberer123
Summary: It's already hard enough becoming a pro hero. Now just imagine if you're the son of two psychotic supervillains. Now imagine that you're also Quirkless. That's the life of our protagonist. Read the story of how one kid overcomes the various trials and obstacles thrown at him to find peace. purpose, and love at UA Academy. And it's all thanks to finding someone who believed in him.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello everyone, this is only my second attempt at a story but I feel much more confident with this one than the last. I really fell in love with MHA. It's characters, plot, and heart really make the show special for me. This story will be rather lengthy as it's OC centered and will follow alongside the events of the anime in later chapters. You might be able to guess what the OC'S powers will be by the end of this chapter and I think a lot of readers will enjoy the nostalgia. I'll explain more at the end since I don't want to spoil anything. So without further ado.**

….

I know what you're all thinking. How can someone without a Quirk become a hero? I mean, not having a Quirk is basically the same thing as being powerless, right? Well you're wrong. Before the first Quirk manifested many years ago, there were millions of ordinary people who decided to devote their lives to doing good. Soldiers, police officers, firefighters, etc. all swore oaths to protect others even if it meant sacrificing their own lives. However, ask anybody today what it means to be a hero and most of them will tell you that it's all about Quirks. Ever since Quirks became abundant (with almost 80 percent of society having one), people have come to judge others based on how flashy and/or powerful their Quirks are. Look at the previous number one hero, All Might. This was a man who could destroy a building with a simple flick of the wrist. His power was loved and feared worldwide and helped to reduce crime rates to an all time low. Society practically worshiped him and as such declared him their beloved Symbol of Peace. What did I think of him? I thought he was a great man who did his best to assure others that they had nothing to fear. He protected those in danger and fought the evil that is rampant in this world. But did I worship him? No. I respected and admired him, but I never wore a t-shirt with his famous smiling face plastered across it. Why? Because I believe that is the job of everyone who calls themselves a hero. Heroes are supposed to put others before themselves. Those who want to be heroes just for the fame and money don't deserve the title of hero. And let me tell you, there are plenty of them. That's the reason I wanted to be a hero. I wanted to show the world that being a hero doesn't depend on strong Quirks or flashy costumes, but on a sense of duty to help keep people safe.

However, this was a problem for two huge reasons. One, it's very hard to get started as a hero when your parents are the nation's most infamous supervillains. I'm sure you've heard of Riptide and Tsunami. Wait a minute you ask, you mean the same Riptide and Tsunami who decimated Boston by essentially inflicting the same damage as ten Category 5 hurricanes combined? The same Riptide and Tsunami whose actions caused the death of over 3 million innocent people just because they wanted to show off the breadth of their power? The same Riptide and Tsunami who defeated hundreds of American heroes and still held their own against the united forces of All Might, Best Jeanist, and Gang Orca? Yep, that's my mom and pop. Riptide was my father, and he had the ability to control and generate currents within any body of water. Basically, he could create a whirlpool without batting an eyelash. And while his Quirk was insanely powerful, my mother's was just as dangerous. While my old man could manipulate water currents, my mother was able to harness and store energy within water. Although separate their Quirks were frightening enough, together they were nearly unstoppable. Why you ask? Think of it in terms of a hurricane. A hurricane requires energy to inflict damage, and it weakens the longer it stays on land because it runs out of energy. Now consider my parents powers. My father could create energy via his manipulation of water currents while my mother could harness that energy to create devastating natural disasters. Basically, my dad provided the fuel and my mom turned that fuel into power. This is how they were able to level Boston. They were basically two parts of a well-oiled machine. Ironic when you think about it. Heroes preach over and over about the importance of teamwork to help solve problems. Well in my parent's case, their teamwork slaughtered millions of innocent people. How's that for teamwork? Altogether, I think you can understand why I don't have many friends. After all, who wants to be friends with someone whose parents killed more Americans than both World Wars put together. You might ask, have you tried being friendly and introducing yourself? Yeah I have. Didn't work out so well.

_Flashback: 2 Years Ago (aka First Day of 6th Grade)_

I sat alone at my desk waiting for the bell to ring. While I was amusing myself twiddling my thumbs, a cute girl plopped down in the desk right beside me_. _She was a little taller than me, had a pair of brown pigtails that bounced around whenever she moved, and blue eyes that sparkled like the stars. But what really got my attention was the giddy smile on her face that could possibly have rivaled All Might's. _Wow. She's really pretty. And she looks so happy. Maybe I should say hi. But what if she hates me like everyone else. No, this is a new school. Auntie said we're far enough away from mom and dad that no one should know who I am. She said that I need to quit being so scared and try to make friends. I promised her I would do my best. Ok, here goes nothing. Be cool. Be cool. Be cool. _Turning toward her and summoning every ounce of courage in my body, I spoke with all of my confidence.

"H-H-H-Hello" I squeaked, sounding like a mouse who had just caught his tail in a trap. _Dang it. That wasn't how I wanted to say it. Maybe she didn't h…_

_"_Hi! It's nice to meet ya! I'm Suzy with a y. My favorite food is ice cream and my favorite animal is a dragon! Dragons are so cool. Do you think they're real? My mom and dad say no, but I think they are. I haven't seen one yet, but I really want to! Have you ever seen a dragon!? My favorite color's red because that's what color dragons usually are! What your favorite color?

Still trying to get over the fact that she had heard me, I did my best to sputter out an answer.

"M-M-My favorite c-color is green. I-I don't really know about dragons though."

Seeing the smile on her face begin to fade, I quickly back pedaled.

"No wait! Uh...Um...I just...I just meant that I've never seen one in person, that's all. BUT THAT DOESN'T MEAN I DON'T BELIEVE IN THEM! PLEASE DON'T HATE ME! I yelped before hiding my face behind my hands.

Fearing that I had already botched my chance at finally making a friend, I struggled to fight the tears that had begun to gather in my eyes. _You blew it, dummy. Why did you have to go and say that? _However, my thoughts were soon interrupted by Suzy's giggling.

"Teehee. I like you. You're really funny!"

_Wait. She thinks I'm funny? Nobody has ever called me that before. And she said she LIKES me. Does that mean as a friend or as something else? Who cares! Ok. Ok. Ok. Calm down. You can do this. All you have to do is ask her to be your friend. _I was once again startled out of my thoughts by her laughter. Apparently, I had been muttering to myself again.

"Hahaha. You really are goofy." Suddenly she snapped her fingers. "Hey! I have an idea. Let's go look for dragons after school today. You can come over to my house and we'll go look around the woods near my backyard. You in?"

It took every bit of his strength for me to not pass out. Someone was talking to me and had actually invited me to hang out. Does that mean she actually wants to be friends!? I finally composed myself enough to answer her.

"I-I-I'D LOVE TO! I practically screamed.

"Great! We'll walk home together after class. Sound good?"

"Mmhmm." I nodded.

"Awesome."

After staying silent for a moment, I decided to ask Suzy the question that had been lingering in my mind.

"H-Hey Suzy?"

"Yeah?"

"W-Will you p-please be my f-f-friend?"

Suzy didn't reply for what seemed like forever. But all of a sudden she flashed me that huge smile and answered.

"I thought we were already friends, Silly."

It was all I could do to stop myself from jumping out of my desk. _I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! AFTER ALL THESE YEARS, I FINALLY MADE A FRIEND! AND SHE'S SO AWESOME! I WONDER WHAT SHE WANTS TO BE WHEN SHE GROWS UP!? MAYBE SHE WANTS TO BE A HERO TOO!_

_"_THANK YOU SO MUCH, SUZY!" I replied excitedly.

"Sure thing!" She returned with enthusiasm a little more contained than mine..

Since I wasn't as nervous around her as before, I decided to ask her another question.

"H-Hey Suzy, do you know what you want to be when you get older!?

She answered in an instant.

"OF COURSE I DO! I want to get stronger and become a hero just like All Might. I'm even practicing his smile." She replied, gesturing to her mouth.

"Does that mean you have a cool Quirk?"

"Uh-huh. Check this out!"

She dug around in her backpack for a while before finally located the item she had been searching for. After crumpling the paper and setting it on her desk, Suzy closed her eyes and concentrated just like her dad had taught her. Slowly but surely, the paper began to float off of the desk and was soon hovering in mid-air. Opening her eyes, Suzy used her hands to help direct the paper's movement away from her desk and into the nearest garbage can.

My mouth might as well have been touching the floor.

"YOU HAVE TELEKINESIS!? THAT IS SO COOL!"

"I know right. My dad said one day my powers will be strong enough to get me into UA as long as I keep practicing!"

"I know you will! That's where I'm going to go too! Let's both work hard to get into UA, ok!?"

"Yeah! Then we'll both be heroes. By the way, I don't think you ever told me your name. And what Quirk do you have? I bet it's even better than mine!"

"Oh r-right. Well...um...you see…I don't actually have…"

BRIIIING

I was cut short by the ringing of the school bell. Not long after, the door opened and a short, stocky man with no hair walked in with a stack of papers in one hand. Making his way to the chalkboard and writing his name with his free hand, the teacher turned toward the class before speaking.

"Hello everyone. It's nice to meet you all. My name is Mr. Anderson and I'll be your teacher this year. I hope you learn a lot but I also hope you have fun while doing it. I'll do my best to make sure everyone here has what they need to succeed. Now that that's out of the way, I'm going to take attendance. When I call your name, please come up to the front and grab a syllabus. This will help me and your classmates get to know your names better, though many of you probably know each other from last year. Anyway, let's get started. Blake Adams."

As Mr. Anderson made his way down the list, I couldn't help but quiver in fear as I awaited the announcement of my name. _As soon as he reads it, everyone is going to know who I am and then IT'S going to happen again. The looks. The whispers. The fear. I'll sit alone at lunch. Nobody will pick me for their team in gym class. Everyone will hate me again. NO. NOT EVERYONE. I have Suzy. She's already my friend so it won't matter who I am to her._

_It's going to be different this time. I know it._

"Let's see next we have…"

As his eyes read over the student's full name, Mr. Anderson nearly dropped the attendance sheet. Why was HE here. And in his class no less. Shouldn't the government have placed this kid in a special school far away from large groups of people? Especially considering...the incident. Why were they taking this big of a risk? Did they want a repeat of the same disaster? Mr. Anderson remembered all too well the words that had been spoken after those two menaces leveled Boston to the ground. The threat had been burned into the minds of every person watching TV that fateful afternoon. Holding a cameraman hostage, the supervillains used him to relay a message to the entire world. Knowing that they would soon be defeated by the combined force of All Might, Best Jeanist, and Gang Orca, Riptide spoke the following words into the camera while his partner looked on: "We might be captured, but you maggots haven't heard the last of us. Our young son will inherit both of our powers which he will use to free us from our soon to be confines. After which, we will once again wreak havoc upon this planet the likes none of you have ever seen before. Don't bother trying to train him as a hero. Evil is written in his DNA. One way or another, you will all fear the name Kaleb Lane, or as you will soon know him as, Typhoon."

And there was the same name staring back at him from the paper. The child who was supposed to bring about massive worldwide devastation was sitting less than 50ft away from him. He might not have looked dangerous, but within this veins coursed the blood of two of the world's deadliest supervillains. Nevertheless, Mr. Anderson managed to stammer out his name.

Once I heard it called, I felt the mood in the room change instantly. Not a soul made the slightest sound as I made my way to the front of the room and grabbed the paper from my teacher's shaking hand. Turning around, I saw the same thing I had in every other class: fear. Some kids were doodling on their desk while some decided to count the tiles on the ceiling. However, they all shared one thing in common. No one dared to look at me. I tried to find Suzy's face, but I couldn't since the guy in front of her was hefty and blocked my view. After I returned to my desk, I tried to steal another glance at Suzy, but she had her head lowered in a way that I couldn't make out her expression. I decided to ignore it and focus on my work. _I'll talk to her at lunch_.

But I never did. I had tried to find her in the cafeteria, but she seemed to have disappeared. Eventually I gave up and decided to find a seat. But any table I attempted to join immediately stood up and left, leaving me to eat my peanut butter and jelly sandwich alone. Apparently the word had gotten out about me to all the other classes as I felt the piercing stares of everyone in the lunchroom. I once again found myself struggling to fight back tears, but I managed to hold them off due to the memory of Suzy's promise. _It's ok. Once school's over, we're going to her house to play. We'll look for dragons together, just like she promised. If she didn't want me to go she would have told me right? Right? I mean...we are friends after all._

After lunch ended, I headed back to class and endured what seemed like the longest 3 hours of my life. Finally, the dismissal bell rang. Leaping out of my seat, I managed to catch up to Suzy as she was leaving class. Walking beside her in the hallway, I tried to start a conversation.

"Um. H-Hey Suzy. Are you ready to go search for dragons?"

She didn't answer, but now I could clearly see her face and any remnant of her playful smile was gone. _Maybe she didn't hear me. _I reached out and gently grabbed her shoulder, hoping she would finally say something. That's when things went south.

"Suzy, are you o..."

Suddenly, I found myself slammed up against one of the side walls in the hallway. But no one was holding me, it was like some invisible force was pressing against my body, keeping me from moving. _What is this? _Then it clicked in my mind. Looking up, I saw Suzy. She had her arms outstretched and was visibly shaking like she was trying to protect herself from some sort of monster. Tears ran freely down her cheeks before she finally spoke.

"Don't touch me!" She yelled. "It's all your fault! They're dead because of you!"

I had no idea what she was talking about. Although I would soon wish I hadn't, I decided to ask anyway.

"What are you talking about, Suzy!?"

"My grandma and grandpa. They went to Boston for their 50th anniversary. They were there when it happened."

I immediately realized what she had been referring to, and her next words confirmed it.

"YOUR PARENTS KILLED THEM!"

Desperately fighting what I already knew was about to happen, I tried to reason with her.

"But I had nothing to do with it. I'm not my parents. We both want to be heroes remember. We're supposed to get into UA together. You said so yourself. We can do it because you and I are friends."

Slowly, the force pressing me against the wall faded away and I was able to move again. As I stepped toward Suzy, I caught a glimpse of her face. I'll never forget that look. The only word I know that could accurately describe it was...disgust. It hurt. But what she said after seeing me approach her hurt even more.

"Stay away from me! You're not a hero, and you're not my friend! I HATE YOU!"

Suzy then turned and sprinted out of the hallway, leaving me to face the harsh gazes of my classmates who had watched the entire event take place. But I didn't notice and I didn't care, all I could do was stare at the place where my supposed friend had stood not 10 seconds ago. _She hates me. Just like everyone else. But she said that I was funny. That I was goofy. That I was her...f-f-friend._ My knees buckling beneath me, I couldn't stop my tears anymore and I began to sob hysterically. My chest was in so much pain, like someone had ripped my heart out. As I continued to cry, Mr. Anderson eventually found me in the hallway and walked me to my bus. He lead me to the back seat before telling me he was looking forward to seeing me in class tomorrow. Even though I knew he didn't care if he ever saw me again, it didn't bother me. All I could think about was Suzy. Her words wouldn't stop echoing in my head. _It's all your fault! It's all your fault! It's all your fault! _I had heard thoseexact words dozens of times before. I guess it made sense. The world couldn't take its anger out on my parents since they were locked up in some maximum security prison overseas so why not persecute their next best option: their son. As the bus pulled away, I whispered something so softly that only I could hear. I whispered what I was about to tell Suzy before class started. I whispered something anyone with a dark sense of irony would find hilarious.

I whispered, "But I don't even have a Quirk."

_End of Flashback_

Now you see why being friendly isn't always enough. People love to label. Some labels are good. Protector. Hero. Symbol of Peace. But others aren't. And unfortunately, I got stuck with a bad one. Dangerous. That brings me to point two of why it was hard for me to become a hero. I didn't even have a Quirk. The irony here is so perfect, it would make for a great teaching lesson. Not only did the son of America's two deadliest villains want to be a hero, he didn't pose any threat to begin with because he was a quirkless loser. That was the entire reason the government allowed my aunt to have custody over me. After doing extensive x-rays and tests, the doctors determined that I was one of the special few who would likely never develop a Quirk. They tried to ease the nerves of the nation by taking their findings public. And though it helped to a degree, society worried that I could be a late bloomer and still possibly become the evil supervillain my parents prophesied of. As such, my school life was a living hell. I was ignored mostly, but every so often some kids would beat me up to make sure I didn't think twice about turning evil. As for the whole friend deal, I once naively thought I might be able to luck out and make at least one friend. But after the whole Suzy fiasco, I stopped trying or caring altogether. I learned just how cruel the world and people in general could be, and decided it would be best to close myself off from my classmates and teachers. It's not like any of them wanted to get to know me anyway.

Nevertheless, I didn't abandon my dreams of being a pro hero who would one day walk the halls of UA Academy. There were some pretty good American hero schools, but UA was the best and like they always say, to be the best you have to train with the best. Also, UA offered that sweet little bonus of being located in Japan which meant I probably wouldn't be treated as harshly as I was here in the States. And little did I know, the path to where my dreams would become a reality began on the first day of my eighth grade year.

My name is Kaleb Lane, and this is the story of how I became one of the world's greatest heroes.

_First day of Eighth Grade_

Making my way through the crowded hallway, I did my best to bob and weave through the mass of students each trying to locate their first period class. Usually I would be taking the time to enjoy my anonymity which would disappear the moment my name was called during attendance, but my mind was lost elsewhere.

_Oh man. Just one more year until I can apply for the UA entrance exam. I can't wait! I might not have a Quirk, but I've been focusing on my computer skills and I think I might be able to squeak by if I can come up with some awesome support tools. Too bad parts are expensive and I only get paid minimum wage. Stop it. Don't think like that. This is a new year. This is my year. Even if everyone hates me, I know I can make it. I'll get into UA. I just have to take it one day at a time._

Arriving at what I believed to be my first period class, I checked the room number with the schedule in my hand to ensure I was in the right place. Room 193. I was in the right place. The room I walked into was set up differently than most classrooms. The usual desk and chairs were replaced by ten long high top counters facing the front of the room, five rows on the left and five on the right. Each of these tables had three large sections cut out on the backside, providing room for the stools marking each of the students seats. This meant the room was capable of holding up to 30 students. I also saw a syllabus at every seat except for a few in the front. I figured this meant those seats were already taken. It wasn't a huge deal. I could choose a seat wherever there was still a syllabus _Huh, kinda small for such a large middle school. Might as well grab a seat. _Since I was ten minutes early, only a couple other students were in the room. I didn't have to think long about my seating choice. My spot was always the same. I made my way to the very back of the room and took the seat closest to the window.

Even though the back seats usually belonged to slackers and those who wanted to catch up on their missed sleep, I didn't choose the seat because I hated class. Quite the contrary. I actually paid attention and did well in all my classes. I knew that I would have to do extremely well on the written portion of the UA entrance exam to make up for my likely lackluster performance in the practical exam. That was the only way I had any chance of passing.

As I began taking my notebook and utensils out of my backpack, I took the time to look around the room a little more. Each side wall had counters running the entire length of the classroom. On these counters rested various forms of skeletal models, crystals, and fossils. A bunch of small paper mache dinosaurs hung from the ceiling supported by metal wires. I recognized several species including the Triceratops, Brachiosaurus, and of course the T-rex. On the back wall two posters were hung, both very large in size. One was the periodic table of the elements and the other was a chronological diagram of the different eras in Earth's history. A filing cabinet was stationed directly behind me and was covered in scientific posters ranging from simple to very complex. The front wall boasted two large chalkboards as well as a rolled projector screen that could be lowered by the controls near the light switch. The teacher's desk was positioned catty cornered on my side of the room, the back of the empty chair facing the window. Altogether, the room definitely betrayed the teacher's enthusiasm for paleontology. _Well the name of the course is Paleontology 101 after all._

As more and more students began to trickle in, I noticed many if not most of them had Quirks. Although many Quirks didn't alter physical appearances that much, some did. One guy's entire body was covered in what looked to be rock while another guy had some sort of respirator-like device attached to his face. The girl who sat in front of me seemed normal barring two fleshy antennas poking out the top of her head with a ball-like swelling on the end of each. I was trying to get a better look at them when I accidentally bumped my textbook off the table. Hitting the floor with a loud thud, the noise had apparently startled the girl, causing the swellings on her antennae to open and reveal a set of eyes. This nearly gave me a heart attack and I was thankful that I managed to stop myself from screaming. Seeing this, the girl turned around in her seat promptly causing me to nearly pass out again as I observed that where her face would normally have eyeballs or eye sockets, only skin was present. My reaction also seemed to trigger her sense of humor.

"Well, well. I didn't think I would be getting EYED over on the first day of class. You like what you see?" She teased, moving her hands slowly up and down her shapely body.

Ignoring the obvious (and terrible) pun, I decided to stay silent and began preparing my notebook for today's lesson. Of course I was a guy, but I wasn't a perv, and I really didn't like girls who tried to act like they should be on the cover of a certain magazine company.

"Oh. Not much for words huh? I guess you're the strong silent type then?"

Again I ignored her and kept writing. Even though I never took my eyes off my paper, I could feel the girl literally eyeballing me, and it was really starting to creep me out.

"You sure are handsome, you know. What are you? Six foot? And that blonde hair...it really suits you. Not to mention that rockin bod of yours. I do like a man with a six pack, and yours is up their with the best of them. How often do you work out?"

I was doing my best to stay silent but something she said caught my attention. I remembered that I was wearing a short sleeve button-down with a t-shirt underneath. Two layers of clothes meant that no one should be able to tell that I had abs, much less a six pack. _Wait a minute_. _Does that mean? _I suddenly felt very exposed, and wrapped my hands around my torso.

_"_Oooh. Brains and brawn. I guess you figured out my Quirk then. It's X-ray Vision. I can adjust the strength of it depending on what I want to see through. In your case, I just needed to look past those-might I say-dated clothes and now I can see every nook and cranny of that hot body."

"H-H-Hey, you can't violate someone's privacy like that!" I argued weakly before another realization dawned on me. "Wait a minute! You didn't peek.."

"Relax, Mr. Modesty. I didn't check out that special friend of yours."

_Phew. _I breathed a sigh of relief. That would have been a nightmare.

"Much." She added with a wink before turning around.

I was contemplating the various ways in which I could murder this girl without getting caught when the morning bell rang. It wasn't long before our teacher stepped into the classroom. I had many teachers in my life, but this one was very different from any of the others. He was around my height, and although he was leaner than me, he appeared to also be quite muscular. At least, that's what I thought even though most of his body was concealed by a white lab coat with what looked like a black t-shirt. This was quite shocking considering the guy looked to be in his early sixties. He had short black hair with flecks of grey sprinkled in as well as a very small goatee that covered the tip of his chin and tapered up to his bottom lip. His face was still taught but some wrinkles had begun to appear, especially around his eyes and forehead. The guy honestly looked like he needed a good night's sleep. A thin pair of wire-rim glasses helped to round out the seasoned professor look. And while he seemed to have aged well aesthetically, it was the manner in which he moved that seemed strange. Straight posture. Swift movements. And an intimidating gaze that silenced the entire class when he made his way to the front of the room. As he introduced himself, I noticed his voice was odd as well. He spoke bluntly, but his tone had a soothing and calming effect. His voice was the final piece of the puzzle, and I recognized why his appearance and behavior seemed both familiar and unusual. The moment he said stated his name, I knew instantly that our history teacher was a veteran hero.

"Hello, everyone. Welcome to Reefside Middle School. I'm Dr. Thomas Oliver, and I'll be your instructor. I'm looking forward to teaching you everything I know."

…..

**That's right. Tommy Oliver. The original green Power Ranger and my personal favorite superhero. Watching MHA reminded me a lot of watching Power Rangers when I was a kid and inspired me to write this story. I just think the themes of both shows blend well together. But don't worry, this story is going to take a more serious approach to the Power Rangers instead of being super campy like the shows. Even if your not a fan of Power Rangers, I encourage you to still read the story. You do not have to know a lot about the Power Rangers as I will be changing some things from the current Power Rangers continuity so Tommy being in the MHA world makes sense. Some of you may already have figured out where I'm going with this story. I would really appreciate it if you review my story so I make it the best it can be. Thanks and enjoy the next chapter which will be out fairly soon.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi again. Thank you guys so much for reading my first chapter. I'm happy that many of you are enjoying it. And thanks to everyone that reviewed and supported this story as well. Here are some answers to the questions and comments from the reviews.**

**1.) If the MC seems to be an Izuku knockoff, I promise that is not what I was going for. Many of the similarities between them are not intentional and I'll think you'll see in this next chapter that the two's personalities are actually quite different.**

**2.) The reason the MC hasn't had his name changed will be revealed in the next chapter. And I promise it will make sense.**

**Now that that's out of the way, here's chapter 2.**

…..

"Welcome to Paleontology 101. This course is designed to expand your knowledge of Earth's prehistoric past. It will help you understand the various changes this planet has undergone through millions of years of evolution." Dr. Oliver explained. Removing his glasses, he continued. "I'm not going to lie, guys. Even though this class is an elective, it's going to be challenging. So anyone who doesn't want to put in the work, you're welcome to leave now."

At this point, about ten of the twenty five students present in the room packed up their stuff and headed for the door. Most of those who left were from the back, including the girl who had recently given me a full body screening. Before walking away, she gave me another once over before cracking a smile and speaking low enough so only I could hear.

"Not going to lie. I'm going to miss staring at that sexy body of yours. But I hate homework more than I like looking at you. I guess we all have to make sacrifices. Hopefully I'll see you around."

Turning to leave, she tossed a folded slip of paper on my desk. I had a pretty good idea of what it was. Even so, I still decided to open it. Grabbing the note and placing it in my lap, I quietly unfolded the paper before reading its contents:

**Tina Brown **

**555-3452 (Call me anytime you want, Mr. Modesty 3)**

_Great. First five minutes of class and I already have a nickname. Well, I guess it could be worse. At the very least it's a nice change up from some of my old ones like Freak, Devil's Spawn, oh and we can't forget my personal favorite, Murderer-in-Training. That one really made me feel loved. At least one person in this school doesn't seem to hate me._

_Yet. But even if that's true, thank God I don't have to sit here being mentally stripped by that Quirk of hers. Judging from what she said about homework, I highly doubt she's in any of my honors classes so that's a plus._

After the last person left, Dr. Oliver closed the door before turning his attention to the remaining students.

"Well that takes care of that. I'm glad the rest of you are willing to put in the extra effort. I promise it will be worth it in the end. Now let me explain a little more about how this class will work. We will have lectures everyday unless it's time for your exam. You will be tested every three weeks and everything you learn will be fair game. But don't worry. I'll be handing out a study guide a week before the test so you will have plenty of time to review. Homework will be collected two days after it is assigned and must be turned in before class starts. Any late work must be signed and approved by the administration or you will receive a zero. There will be no quizzes in this class, but that doesn't mean you should wait until the night before the test to study. Are there any questions?"

The room was dead silent other than the sound of people scribbling in their notebooks.

"Alright then. Each of you has a syllabus on your desk. Please read it carefully. If you have any questions about the material or something the syllabus doesn't cover, I'll be here 6th period to help you as best I can. I know this sounds like a lot guys, but I believe each of you has the ability to earn an A in this class. Just pace yourself and you'll be fine. If there aren't any questions, we'll move on to attendance."

Dr. Oliver walked over to his desk and grabbed a pack of note cards. Taking some out, he handed a small stack to the front row and asked them to take a card and pass the rest back.

"Some of you might be wondering what we're doing, so I'll explain. My teaching style is different than most here at Reefside. I'm not the kind of teacher who comes in, gives a lesson, and walks out. I want to get to know each and every one of you so we can create a tight-knit learning environment. I've found this method helps keep students interested and focused during class. I would like each of you to write down your name, Quirk, and any goals that you may have. We'll go around the room starting from left to right and I want you all to share what's written on your card. This will help both me and your classmates get to know you better. You have two minutes before we start."

Everyone began writing down the information. Well, almost everyone. Some were finished in less than twenty seconds. Others took a little over a minute to finish their responses. Then there was me.

_You've got to be kidding me! It's hard enough to deal with everyone's reaction when the teacher calls my name. There's no way in hell I can stand up and announce my name to the entire class. Not to mention he wants us to state our Quirk and goals too. Arrrrrrrr...I can't do it! Maybe if I explain the situation to him, he won't make me go through with it. I'm sure he would understand. I mean he seems like a reasonable guy after all. Yeah, that's it. I'll ask him right n…_

"Times up. Let's get going."

_Crap. This is bad. This is really really bad. What am I supposed to do now. Should I just refuse to answer when it's my turn. No. That will likely end me up in the principal's office. He's friendly enough, but I don't think he plays when it comes to following the rules. Alright then. Plan B: Lie. Just say that my Quirk is something really lame like being able to glow in the dark or something. That way, no one will think that I can still inherit my parents powers since I already have a Quirk. Also, I won't be bullied as bad if nobody knows I'm quirkless. *Sigh*. But if I'm being honest with myself, I do kind of want to tell him the truth. I know I just met him, but he seems like a really cool guy even if he's a little old. I haven't even heard him teach yet, but judging by what he said earlier about wanting to get to know each of us, he seems pretty genuine. Grrrrrrr...can't something be simple for once in my life?_

Noticing that it was almost my turn, I decided to try and write something. However, I must of been overly anxious because the lead in my pencil snapped the moment I began copying my name.

_I guess not._

I fumbled around in my pouch for an extra pencil but couldn't seem to find another one that was already sharpened. After what seemed like forever, I finally managed to find one. But just as I was about to start writing...

"And last but not least, we have Mr…"

_WHY! WHAT THE HELL DID I EVER DO TO MAKE THE UNIVERSE HATE ME!? Ok. Ok. Calm down. Just relax. He can't see my card so all I have to do is pretend to read it. I don't even have to look up at the class. I can do this. I can do this. I can do this._

Standing up from my seat, I stared down at the blank card and prepared to pull some random crap out of a hat. But something inside me just wouldn't let me go through with it. It was like my body wasn't cooperating with my mind. As I struggled to speak, the reason behind by hesitation eventually became clear. If I did this, if I lied to everyone, not only would I be lying to Dr. Oliver and my classmates, I'd be lying to myself. Even if I didn't have a Quirk, I still wanted to attend UA and become a pro hero. I had tried multiple times to abandon my dreams and move on, hoping to lessen some of the torture I was going through. But no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't give them up. So what if everybody was scared of me or believed that the idea of me being a hero was ridiculous. Deep down, Ibelieved I could be a hero, and that's what counted. I was willing to go through anything so I that I one day fight the evil that threatened this world, even if that meant one day having to face off against my own parents. But you know what? I was proud of that. I was proud that I hadn't let everybody else decide what was and what wasn't possible for me to achieve. I'd made it this far with my dreams in tact, and I wasn't giving up now.

"Hey, I know you might be a little nervous but don't worry. No one here is going to judge you. That is, unless they want detention." Dr. Oliver reassured me while casting a threatening gaze at the other students.

Suddenly, every ounce of worry left my body as his words of encouragement gave me the boost in confidence I so desperately needed. Lifting my eyes from the paper, I faced the class and introduced myself.

"My name is Kaleb Lane, son of the supervillains Riptide and Tsunami. I don't have a Quirk, but that's not going to stop me from getting accepted into UA and becoming a full-fledged hero."

Per usual, most of my classmates faces became twisted with fear the moment they heard my name. The rest had a look that I was also quite familiar with. It was the same look my aunt had given me when I told her what I had just told the class. It was the look of disbelief. I can't blame them. I mean, how ironic is it that the quirkless son of two of the worst mass murderers in history wants to protect and save lives? But as far fetched as it seemed, what I said was the truth. And whether or not other people believed I was serious, I knew without a shadow of a doubt that becoming a hero was what I wanted most in life. Little did I know that it was all about to start the second I locked eyes with Dr. Oliver. To say that I was shocked at his expression would be an understatement. His face showed no signs of disgust or disbelief, only a small smile. But that smile said a million words. It was the same smile a father gives his son when he's about to step up to home plate and try and hit a home run. It was a smile of encouragement, as if to say that he was confident I could accomplish my goals if I worked hard enough at it. In that moment, Dr. Oliver revealed that I wasn't the only one who believed I could be a hero. He believed in me too.

He gave a slight nod signalling that I could sit back down.

"Great. I'm looking forward to working with everyone this year. A lot of you guys have some really awesome goals for your life. That's good. I hope you stick with them, even if they might seem a little out of reach. Most of you had some neat Quirks as well. But remember, Quirks don't define who you are. They are just tools we use to help us reach our goals."

_Ok. I take back what I said about him being old. Dr. Oliver is awesome! I have to make sure I do well in his class so I can show him how serious I am about being a hero._

After checking his watch to see how much time was left in class, Dr. Oliver decided he could get a jump start on tomorrow's lesson.

"We begin with the formation of the Earth. Now, about 14.5 Billion years ago…"

…..

As the first few weeks passed, Dr. Oliver's class had quickly become my favorite. And that wasn't just because of what happened on the first day of school. Dr. O (he said he didn't mind us calling him that) was also a really good teacher. The interactive way he taught lectures made it very easy to understand the material. He wasn't one of those teachers who just read off the slides of a presentation and expected students to follow along. His assignments were tough but manageable as long as you were willing to put in the work. And it wasn't just me who thought highly of Dr. O. From what I could tell, many of my classmates also thoroughly enjoyed his class. As for my academic performance, I was doing well and had actually managed to score a 98 on the first exam. It wasn't a huge surprise since I studied super hard for the class and always did my best to answer Dr. O's questions. But alas, my good fortune would eventually run out.

_September 24_

It started off just like any other normal lecture. Dr. O reviewed a little from the previous lesson before teaching the day's topic. We were now about a month into school so we were presently learning about the different eras in Earth's timeline. Out of all the lectures, I believe Dr. O enjoyed teaching this one the most. Despite his normally calm nature, you could see his excitement for the subject. His eyes would light up with wonder and he would smile from time to time. It was almost like he was a little kid. If I didn't know any better, I would say he had actually seen a dinosaur in real life. But there's no way that's possible. Then again, Japan did have a hero called Godzillo.

Anyways, Dr. O was about ten minutes into his lecture before he asked the first question.

"Alright guys, who here can tell me what three periods make up the Mesozoic era?"

Although a few others raised their hands, mine was the first one up and I guess that got Dr. O's attention. He gave me a slight nod which meant that I could go ahead. Doing my best not to look stupid or cocky to the rest of my classmates, I gave my answer.

"The Mesozoic era is divided into the Triassic, Jurassic, and Cretaceous period."

Dr. O replied quickly.

"That's correct. Nice job, Kaleb."

"Thank you, sir." I responded, and judging by some of the looks I was getting, I may have said that a little too enthusiastically.

_Great. Now everyone thinks I'm a kiss-ass. Whatever. Not like they thought highly of me in the first place._

It didn't seem to phase Dr. O though. He just moved on to the next question.

"That last question was pretty easy, and since so many of you raised your hands, I believe you thought so as well. That's good because you are likely to see a similar question on your exam so if you don't know it now, I highly suggest you do before test day. Now, this next question I'm about to ask is going to be pretty difficult."

Observing the class' reaction to his last comment, Dr. O gave a light chuckle before continuing.

"Don't worry, you won't see a question like this on your exam. It's just a question to test and see how well you all have been paying attention in class. I'll honestly be surprised if any of you can answer this since I only briefly mentioned it in class. Here's the question."

At this moment, Dr. O turned out the lights before projecting an image onto the video screen. It was a picture of a T-Rex in combat with a Stegosaurus. Surprisingly, the Stegosaurus appeared to have the upper hand as the picture showed what appeared to be a large gash on the T-Rex's jaw due to being hit by the Stegosaurus' spike covered tail.

After letting the class study the picture for a moment, Dr. O posed his question.

"This is probably one of the most well known dinosaur illustrations of all time. It was published in an encyclopedia a few decades back. However, there is something very wrong with this picture. Does anybody have an idea of what that might be."

Whereas almost everyone in the class raised their hand for the first question, not a soul volunteered for this one. Dr. O wasn't lying when he said he made this question was challenging. I racked my brain to see if I could somehow figure it out.

_Let's see. I don't think it has anything to do with the Stegosaurus seemingly winning the battle. After all, it's body armour and tail make it one of the best defensive dinosaurs of all time. It could definitely fend off a T-Rex. So if that's not it, then what is it? C'mon, think. _

Suddenly, a brief memory flashed across my mind. I remembered about a week ago Dr. O had mentioned that many people believe every dinosaur species existed at the same time on Earth and that this belief was incorrect. The more I thought about it, the clearer the error in the picture became.

_I think this is right. Even if I'm wrong, at least Dr. O will know that I'm taking his class seriously. _

I hesitantly lifted my hand just above my shoulder.

_Maybe he won't even see my hand. Hopefully he'll just explain it and move on._

He didn't. As his eyes scanned over the class, Dr. O eventually noticed my gesture. Smiling slightly, he asked me, "So you think you've figured it out, Kaleb?"

I nodded.

"Awesome. Let's hear what you got."

Since I was really nervous, I struggled to voice my answer. Even so, I managed to spit it out.

"It's wrong because those two dinosaurs could never have interacted with each other. The Stegosaurus lived during the late Jurassic period while the Tyrannosaurus lived during the late Cretaceous period. These two species couldn't have fought each other because they're separated by millions of years."

After I had finished, the classroom was completely silent. Whether it was because they were astonished by my response or because they thought it was incredibly stupid, I couldn't tell. Even Dr. O didn't say anything. He had the same look as everyone else. Figuring I got the answer wrong, I closed my eyes and braced myself for Dr. O telling me how ridiculous my guess was.

After what seemed like forever, he finally responded.

"T-That's right." He said incredulously.

_Say what now? Did he just say I was right?_

Opening my eyes, I saw that Dr. O had that same smile on his face as the day I introduced myself to the class. And it felt just as good as it had back then.

"I'm impressed you were able to figure that out. Like I said, I only briefly mentioned it once before. But Kaleb is correct, everyone. The Stegosaurus and Tyrannosaurus existed during two completely different periods in history. Therefore, they would never have met each other in combat. Well Kaleb, I guess that shows you pay very close attention in class. Speaking of which, I have a request."

Still dumbfounded by the fact that I had actually answered correctly, I said nothing and just gave a slight nod.

"I would like you to move to the front of the class."

_Say what?_

He was messing with me right? I mean, every teacher I had before was content to have me as far away from them as possible.

Looking around the room, I saw that everyone was just as surprised as I was. However, I was the first one to say what everybody else was thinking.

"I don't think that's a good idea, sir."

"You don't? Well I don't see a problem with it. You do have the highest grade in the class after all. And I like to reward students for the hard work they put in."

_Wait. Does that mean he doesn't care about my parents? Well I guess statistically speaking there has to be someone who doesn't, even if I have the same chance of being struck by lightning after getting run over by a bus. _

"Are you sure?"

Dr. O chuckled. "Of course I'm sure. After answering such a difficult question, I can't think of a better place I'd rather have you."

Directing his eyes off of me, he shifted his attention to the girl occupying the front row seat closest to the isle. "Emma, would you mind switching seats with Kaleb?"

It didn't take a genius to figure out that Emma was a typical popular girl. The bleach blonde hair combined with makeup that looked like it had been applied with a paint roller really helped reinforce the image. And judging by her daily choice of attire, I would bet my bottom dollar that she fed off attention. I mean I know this is California, but is a low cut tank top and booty shorts that left little to the imagination really appropriate school attire? Seriously, how has she not been dress coded?

Besides that, I didn't know a whole lot about her other than her Quirk. From what she said during class introductions, her Quirk was called Persuasion. It wasn't brainwashing, but I'm pretty sure her Quirk allowed her to trick others into doing her bidding by making her desires seem like their own. But even though she didn't explicitly say it, I'm pretty sure there was a catch. I just hadn't figured it out yet. Of course having such a powerful Quirk only added to her popularity and sex appeal. Almost every guy in the school was head over heels in love with her and her curvaceous body. Apparently, a lot of them really dig the whole being dominated by a female shtick. But if what I overheard was true, then she already had a boyfriend. I'm pretty sure it was one of the jocks on the football team. But honestly, I couldn't care less. I had better things to do than waste time fawning over some diva who clearly was used to getting whatever she wanted.

And as if to prove my last point, Emma started to argue with Dr. O's request.

"B-But Dr. Oliver…" She whined.

Dr. O cut her off. Apparently, he was having none of her bullshit today either. "Do you have a problem with it, Miss Palmer? Or do I need to remind you that you haven't turned in your last two homework assignments? Now, please switch seats."

This caused everyone in the class to giggle.

Emma considered continuing her argument. But the previous threat along with the harsh gaze she was receiving from Dr. O stopped her. The fake smile on his face did little to conceal the fact that his request was not negotiable. This was one mind she wasn't going to change. Slowly, she packed up her stuff before standing up and making her way to the back. As we passed each other in the isle, I couldn't help but notice the glare she was giving me. If looks could kill, I probably would have been dismembered. Nevertheless, I eased into my new seat while doing my best to ignore everyone else. Luckily, once we were settled, Dr. O continued his lecture so I was able to focus on taking notes.

The rest of class went by as usual, taking notes and answering questions. After the bell rang, I was walking out the door to leave when Dr. O asked if I could spare a minute. Although I only had five minutes between classes, it wasn't a huge deal since my next class was right down the hall. Dodging between the other students who were trying to leave the classroom, I eventually made it to Dr. O's lengthy wooden desk. He was reclined in his chair with his hands folded and one legged crossed over the other. Typical teacher pose.

"You wanted to see me, sir?"

He looked up at me and removed his glasses with one hand before cracking a small smile. However, unlike with Emma, I could tell this one was genuine.

"Yes I did. I'd like to say good job today. I can tell you're putting in a lot of effort."

_Um. Ok. Was that it? Jeez, I thought it was something important._

"Uhh...thanks."

I just stood there awkwardly, not really knowing what else to add or what I should do. However, I noticed Dr. O was calmly analyzing me, and it was really weirding me out. I'm not talking about like Tina who basically stripped me with her eyes. No, this was different. It seemed like he was trying to figure me out or something. Like how a boss evaluates a job candidate for an important position. And given my sweaty palms and the awkward silence in the air, I could definitely relate to a potential hiree. Dr. O eventually broke the silence.

"That's all I wanted to say. You're free to go."

_Oooooook. Well, I'll just pretend like that wasn't the strangest conversation I ever had with a teacher. _

I turned around and exited the room, still trying to wrap my head around what exactly had just happened. Little did I know that after I had left the classroom, Dr. O was still thinking about our exchange as well. _The kid definitely has potential. But it's too early to know if he's the right choice. _

At that moment, it seems as if I was also the topic of another certain someone's mind. Apparently, she was still pissed about what happened in class, but she knew she couldn't do anything to Dr. Oliver as that would likely end up getting her expelled. However, she could do something to the other person responsible for her damaged reputation. Looking down at her phone, she hit the send button on her text.

**I need you to do something for me.**

It wasn't long before she got a reply.

**Anything for you babe.**

Emma smirked. Losing her seat wasn't a huge deal, but NOBODY humiliated her and got away with it.

_Lunch (later that day)_

I glanced down at the tray that held what was supposedly my lunch. A soggy piece of round dough speckled with splotches of red sauce and a couple shreds of cheese I guessed qualified as pizza around here. Not to mention a breadstick that was so hard you could have used it to scrape gum off the bottom of your shoe. But the meal did come with a salad. If you call a couple chunks of lettuce topped with two baby carrots a salad.

_How can schools get away with serving crap like this? I mean I know I'm not at the Ritz, but at least make it seem like you care about our health. _

I picked up the breadstick and pondered whether or not I should test the coverage of my aunt's dental insurance. Deciding it was better to not end up having to ask Santa for two front teeth this Christmas, I chose to just eat the salad. Finishing one of the carrots, I joked about how ironic it was that the school which required students to take a nutrition course clearly didn't take itself very seriously. It probably would have made people laugh, if anybody was around to hear it. Looking around the cafeteria, I noticed the closest person sitting to me was a good fifty feet away. The corner table I presently occupied and the tables directly adjacent to mine were completely bare save for some napkins some kids had hurriedly left behind after I sat down.

It wasn't like I expected anything different. Lunch had been like this at every school I attended after my parent's little announcement. It bothered me at first, but I ended up getting used to the quiet after a while and even started to enjoy it. I mean just look at the benefits. I never had to worry about the lunch monitor scolding my table for being to loud. I didn't have to listen to guys talk on and on about their latest plan to get their v-card swiped. Hell, I could even get a head start on homework without being interrupted. What more could a guy ask for?

What? Lonely? Me? Pssshhh. Yeah right…Hey, don't look at me like that. OK fine, I was a little lonely. You happy now?

Like I said before, I learned just how cruel people could be when they were scared. I used to try to convince everybody that I wasn't dangerous, but it's very difficult to change somebody's mind once they already have a certain image of you. Eventually, I realised I was just beating a dead horse so now I did my best to avoid social interaction altogether. And yet there was still a part of me that thought I might be able to make some friends even though all the isolation and torment over the years made me as cold and hard as that breadstick. I hope whoever dies become my friend likes sarcasm and dark humor, because I had plenty to spare.

As I mindlessly continued to munch on the remainder of my salad, I was soon approached by the oldest looking middle schooler I had ever seen in my life. The reason I was so surprised was because until now, I was the oldest looking middle schooler I had ever scene. Now you have to understand something. I wasn't the same shrimp I was in sixth grade. I guess one of the only good things to come from my parents was their genes because during my seventh grade year, I grew almost 8 inches which put me right around six foot. I also had opted for weight training instead of gym the last two years which helped me pack on a good amount of muscle. Not to mention I had already started to shave lest I come to school looking like I should be chopping down trees for a living. But I was nothing compared to the guy standing in front of me.

He was easily six four and built like a tank. A black athletic shirt and sweatpants that were obviously a size to small struggled to contain his physique. His brown hair was crew cut and he had what looked like the number 18 etched into the left side. I didn't have to be Einstein to guess that this guy was a football player. Instead my mind was concerned about what exactly Mr. Olympia was doing at my lunch table. It wasn't long before I had my answer.

"Uhhh...can I help you big guy?"

"Yeah." He replied. "You Kaleb Lane?"

"Last time I checked." I deadpanned, yet inwardly still confused as to what he wanted with me.

"Well well well. Looks like it's your lucky day, kid. It's not everyday you get beaten up by someone like me." He flaunted loudly enough so everyone could hear.

Drawn to the spectacle, people began to form a circle around us. And strangely, I noticed that most of them were guys. Understanding where this was going, I knew I needed to diffuse the situation before things got out of hand. Thankfully, I had quite a bit of experience when it came to avoiding getting pummeled. At first I used to just take the beatings and not say anything. The teachers would eventually come and break it up. But after my growth spurt, I towered over many of my potential bullies so now most of them left me alone. But every so often someone wanted to try their luck at me. This is where I learned how useful the ancient art of bluffing could be. Due to looking like I should be in high school, I was able to really up the whole potential supervillain intimidation factor, especially since I kind of even resembled my dad a little bit. A couple empty threats made quick work of the remaining bullies. I hated it because the last thing I wanted to do was to be like my parents, but I'd become fed up being the school's punching bag. But like I said before, I rarely had to use the bluff card so it wasn't too big a deal.

_Judging by this dude's attitude, I'm pretty sure he's just another Chad who wants his ego tickled. This shouldn't be too hard to handle. My best bet is to try and push through the crowd or pull a bluff if things start looking bad. Let's start with the basics._

"As much fun as that sounds, I think you should at least tell me your name and why you feel like you need to rough me up."

He looked genuinely shocked that I didn't know who he was. Then again, I'm not really in the loop as they say.

"You're joking right? You really haven't heard of me? Wow. You must live under a rock. The name's Chad Braxton, star linebacker and captain of the Reefside Dolphins."

_Wait. This dude's name really is Chad?_

I struggled to contain myself but couldn't help but bust out laughing.

"What's so funny?" He asked with annoyance.

I finally managed to compose myself enough to respond.

"Nothing. Just the fact that your name is CHAD BRAXTON." I couldn't help but snicker when I said his name.

He didn't think it was as funny.

"You know at first I was just doing my girlfriend a favor. But now I'm really going to enjoy kicking your ass."

That piqued my interest. Until now, I had assumed he was doing this because he wanted to flex his ego. But if it's because of his girlfriend, then that means she's the one who had beef with me.

_This doesn't make any sense. I literally just go to class, do my work, and go home. I make it a priority to not draw attention to myself. Then how the hell have I pissed off his girlfriend? The only girl I've talked to is Tina, and I'm pretty sure she isn't the kind of girl to ask for my head on a platter. Besides her, the only other girl I've even made eye contact with is..._

"Shit."

"You better believe it dickhead. You're in for a world of hurt. Time to teach you just how strong real heroes can be." Chad threatened while cracking his knuckles.

However, I didn't curse because I was scared of him. It was because I had finally figured out what was going on. And if I was right, then this wasn't about to end well for me.

Scanning through the crowd, I noticed a certain blonde haired girl among them. The smirk on her face confirmed my suspicions.

_Are you kidding me? All of this because I took her seat in class? She's that petty? Why the hell does she have it out for me when it was Dr. O who wanted us to switch? I didn't want to switch anymore than she did. Whatever. I don't have time for this crap._

Just as I was about to stand up, Chad waltzed around the table and stood beside me. Picking up the tray, he dumped the remainder of my lunch on my head.

"Whoops. Sorry about that pal. It just slipped out of my hand." Chad sarcastically apologized.

I knew he was trying to get me worked up so I would throw the first punch. That way he could argue self defense when the teachers broke us up. But unfortunately for him, I'd been around the block a couple times.

Standing to my feet, I wiped the sauce out of my eyes before turning to Chad and staring him down. My face must have been pretty serious because you could have heard a pin drop due to the tension between the two of us. However, I don't think anybody expected my next move.

Grabbing my backpack, I broke eye contact with him before heading to the least dense part of the crowd to try and push my way through. Since I didn't react the way he hoped, Chad opted for the verbal approach.

"And where do you think you're going? Oh, I get it. The villains' kid is nothing but a coward. How fitting." He jeered. "What's the matter, afraid you'll lose?"

As I was almost halfway through the crowd, I figured it was ok to speak my mind.

"Not really." I called back. "I just don't fight battles I know I can't win. And I'm definitely not going to let some meathead with a hero complex who doesn't even realize he's being manipulated by his spoiled brat of a girlfriend trick me into getting expelled."

Chad, Emma, and all the onlookers stood there speechless. Did this kid really just insult the two most popular people in the entire school? Hell yeah I did, and I'd gladly do it again. Just because they were popular didn't make them better than me or anyone else for that matter. As far as I was concerned, everyone puts their pants on one leg at a time.

In hindsight, I should've just kept my mouth shut because now I had royally pissed off the dude twice my size as well as the girl who I momentarily forgot could persuade others to do what she wanted. Just as I was about to reach the door, two brutish looking guys blocked the exit. I recognized the one covered in rocks from my first period class and the other-who I'd never seen before-was plastered from head to toe in various tattoos. Needless to say, my initial plan of escape had failed. Looking behind me, I saw that Chad, Emma, and the majority of the crowd had followed me and I once again found myself surrounded. Chad closed the gap between the two of us with a huge shit-eating grin on his face.

"What, you thought I was going to let you get away after disrespecting me and my girl like that?"

_I was hoping so but I guess not. Well then, since my first plan's out the window, it's time for Plan B. _

Between Chad getting closer and the two meat walls blocking my only exit, I knew there was no other choice but to bluff and pray a teacher would be able to get through the crowd. Dropping my backpack, I held out an open hand toward Chad signalling him to stop. Surprisingly enough he actually did.

"Oh, so now you're ready to fight, huh?"

Donning the most serious and threatening expression I could, I dropped my voice a couple octaves before answering calmly.

"Fighting isn't going to accomplish anything. Besides, I wouldn't want to hurt you."

This only made him laugh. But this was fine as I was only trying to stall and what better way than to get him to keep running his mouth.

"Hahahaha...Oh that's rich, man!" He laughed at first but suddenly his face turned deadly serious. "You think I'm an idiot? I know you're nothing but a poser."

I guess my expression must have momentarily faltered because the look on Chad's face betrayed the fact that he knew had called my bluff. He continued his tirade.

"Just because you're parents are big and bad doesn't make you anything more than a quirkless loser. And I'm about to show this entire school just how pathetic you really are."

Before I could even react, Chad closed the remaining distance between us and rammed his fist into my abdomen. Hearing an audible crack, I doubled over in pain before coughing up what tasted like blood. Out of every punch I had ever taken, this was by far the most painful. Struggling to catch my breath, I looked up just in time to see another blow connect with my right eye. The force of this punch was enough to knock me to the floor. As I layed there wheezing, my brain was racing to think of someway to get away as there was no way I could take someone like him head on. I had no fighting experience whatsoever besides a couple of self-defense YouTube videos my aunt insisted I watch. And some good they were doing me now.

Rolling over onto my hands and knees, I painfully crawled toward the door.

_M-maybe if I can just reach…_

A brutal kick from Chad broke a couple more of my ribs. Glancing up at my adversary, the toothy grin on his face showed just how much enjoyment he was getting out of beating me to a pulp. A smile that was shared by his girlfriend who was standing just a few feet behind him.

His taunts were also as incessant as his blows.

"Pshhh. So weak. I at least thought the son of such powerful supervillains would put up some kind of a fight."

After delivering another savage kick to my kidneys, Chad backed away and stared at me with a twisted sense of pity.

"Tell ya what. I'll stop if you can land a single hit on me. And just to show you how nice of a guy I am, I'll even help you up."

Bending down and grabbing the back of my collar, Chad yanked me to my feet. It took every ounce of willpower for me to not scream out in agony due to feeling the full extent of pain from my broken ribs. Nevertheless, I managed to stay upright. My vision was blurry since my right eye had now begun to swell, but I could still see the smile on his face as he continued to mock me.

"C'mon hero, just one punch. Here, take your best shot." He jeered while lowering his chin within arm's length of me.

Even though I knew it was a trap, I just wanted this to be over with. So being the fool I was, I threw a halfhearted right hook at his face. Ecstatic that I had fallen for his trick, Chad blocked my punch with his left forearm before driving his right fist deep into my stomach, quickly dropping me to my knees.

"I can't believe you fell for that. Judging by the look on your face, I'm sure you're wondering why every one of my strikes hurt so bad." He paused to see if I would confirm. Even though I did nothing but gasp for air like a fish out of water, he explained anyways. "It's because of my Quirk. It's called Detect. I can see nerve impulses in a person's body. Since nerves tend to cluster around vitals, this means I know exactly where to hit you to cause the most pain. I can also read your impulses to predict your next movement. Why do you think I'm considered the best linebacker in the school and the state?"

I was in too much pain to be impressed. All I could think about was how stupid I was for thinking I could actually make it as a pro hero. Hell, why did I even want to be a hero in the first place? To save people? If everyone was as awful as this, was it even worth saving their lives? Are they much better than the villains?

As these thoughts ran through my mind, Chad raised his fist and prepared to deliver the knockout shot. Judging by the angle, I guessed it was destined for my lower jaw. As he swung his fist, I closed my eyes and welcomed the impact that would put me out of my misery. Strangely enough, it never came.

Opening my eyes, I saw that Chad's strike had been stopped by none other than Dr. Oliver, who still maintained a firm grasp on Chad's wrist. Since he was standing between me and Chad, I couldn't see his face. But judging by the look on everyone else's who could, I assumed it wasn't a friendly one. The tone of his voice supported my assumption.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" Dr. O asked, anger evident in his voice.

Although he was initially surprised that someone had actually managed to deflect his punch, Chad regained his composure and tried to worm his way out of trouble as he had done so many times before. After all, the school couldn't afford to have their star linebacker benched for any games, especially since they were projected to win regionals this year.

Feigning innocence, Chad did his best to warp the situation to his advantage.

"Dr. Oliver, I'm so glad you're here. This dude threatened to hurt my girlfriend just because she asked him for her seat back in your class. Right Emma?"

"Y-Y-Yes." She answered timidly, dabbing her eyes with a tissue she had pulled from somewhere. "I asked if he could talk to you about switching us back since I can't see the board very well in the back of the room. Then he just exploded and started yelling at me. H-He even threatened to k-k-kill me."

Emma started to sob loudly.

I had to give credit where credit's due. Emma was a damn good actor. The emotion in her voice along with the fake tears causing her mascara to run really helped sell their story. And given the extent of my current trauma, I even started to believe that she was telling the truth. However, despite Emma's performance, Dr. Our wasn't buying it in the slightest.

"You really expect me to believe that crap!?"

Emma stuck to her guns.

"What are you talking about? If Chad hadn't saved me, I don't know what I would have done. I honestly felt like my life was in danger." She gestured to the bystanders. "Ask anyone here, they'll vouch for me?"

As every member of the crowd nodded in confirmation, I realized just how much of a conniving genius Emma truly was. She had concocted such a well thought-out plan in only a few hours. She had manipulated the situation so that now it was at least fifty people's words against mine. There was no way anybody in their right mind would believe me. At least, that's what I thought.

"That's bullshit and you know it! You think I forgot about you're Quirk? I know that you have the ability to warp people's minds and that that's what happening here. Both of you are in a world of trouble. Now get your asses down to the principal's office!"

Neither of them budged. Emma continued to plead her case, but Chad dropped the charade.

"Ha. Fuck you, old man. I'm going to gym class."

As he moved past Dr. O toward the now unguarded door, Chad felt himself being forcibly snatched back by his collar. Looking over his shoulder, he saw that Dr. O had a tight grip on his shirt and it didn't look like he planned on letting go anytime soon.

"HEY! LET GO OF ME!" He yelled.

But Dr. O's grip didn't lessen in the slightest.

"Yeah right. I don't think so. Now either you're going to walk to the office, or I'll drag you there myself."

"Fuck you! Do you have any idea who you're messing with? I'm fucking royalty on this campus. The principal's not going to do shit to me."

Dr. O wasn't phased.

"We'll see about that." He replied before pulling Chad toward the other exit closest to the administration building, the football player struggling to remove the teacher's hand from his collar.

However, Chad wasn't going without a fight. Finally gathering enough strength to pry the hand off, Chad turned around and threw a hard right cross at Dr. O. But unlike me, Dr. O slipped the punch and countered with a spin kick to Chad's gut, putting him flat on his back and making him gasp for air. Even though Chad's Quirk predicted the counterattack, it was launched so fast that he had no time to react.

To say I was surprised by Dr. O's reflexes would be a massive understatement. Just who was this guy?

After catching his breath, Chad clamored to his feet before charging Dr. O again, this time throwing a vicious left haymaker. But instead of slipping the punch like last time, Dr. O quickly intercepted it by grabbing Chad's wrist with both hands and sharply twisting, causing Chad to cry out in pain. Holding his now broken wrist with his right hand, Chad cursed Dr. O like a sailor. But Dr. O remained cool and collected.

"Now," he began ominously, "if you don't want your other wrist to end up like that, I suggest you and Miss Palmer make your way to the office."

"YOU BASTARD!" Chad seethed through clenched teeth. "Just wait until Coach hears about this. You'll be sorry!"

Dr. O didn't even acknowledge the remark but instead just pointed at the door.

Still muttering curses under his breath, Chad reluctantly shuffled through the exit and made his way toward the administration building. It wasn't long before he was followed by Emma whose hysterics were now authentic due to seeing her boyfriend get owned by her first period teacher.

Now that Emma's influence was no longer present, the crowd began to thin as each individual slowly regained their senses. I would gladly have left too, had I not been in so much pain that I couldn't even stand up. Eventually, the occupants dissipated until the only people left in the cafeteria besides the lunch ladies were myself and Dr. O. He had found his way back over to where I was still kneeling in both physical and emotional agony. I didn't need a mirror to know just how pathetic and helpless I must have appeared. Looking up at him, I expected to see nothing but a face filled with pity just like every other teacher had shown before. Yet I didn't. All I saw was his small trademark smile as he bent down so I could throw my arm around his shoulder. It was at this moment I understood why so many people loved All Might's gigantic smile. It comforted them the same way Dr. O's comforted me.

An hour later I found myself in the passenger seat of Dr. O's black open-side jeep. After helping me hobble to the nurse's office, Dr. O stayed by my side while she treated my wounds. Although not as powerful as Recovery Girl's, Mrs. Maxwell's healing abilities were good enough to treat the worst of my injuries, namely my broken ribs. She had also recommended I be taken home, as I needed a couple days of rest to help speed up the healing process. Since my aunt wouldn't be home from work for a couple more hours, Dr. O volunteered to drive me home. Mrs. Maxwell advised against it as that meant he would have to miss teaching his class, but he insisted, stating that he could get a sub to cover for him. Giving a brief thank you to the nurse, I followed Dr. O to his vehicle.

I remained virtually silent during the ride, save for telling Dr. O where he needed to turn to get to my house. Whether it was from the physical or mental exhaustion I couldn't say for sure. Besides promising that he would take care of what had happened at lunch and periodically asking me for directions, Dr. O said little to nothing as well. I think he understood that I really wasn't feeling up to a conversation.

Soon we found ourselves in the driveway of a small ranch style brick house. It wasn't tiny, but it only had two bedrooms and one and a half bathrooms. It was the best my aunt could manage with a teacher's salary. We weren't poor and always had food on the table, but we definitely had to budget, often shopping at thrift stores and other discounted places. But we were content to have each other, and that's what really mattered.

Stepping out of the vehicle, I grabbed my backpack and thanked Dr. Our for the ride home. As I shut the door, he spoke something I'll remember until the day I die.

"Hey Kaleb."

"Yeah?"

"No hero's path is complete without pain and adversity. You just have to keep pressing on."

Not really in the mood for that kind of stuff at the moment, I simply nodded before walking toward the garage. Dr. O must have gotten the message because it wasn't long before he started the engine and pulled out of the driveway. After typing in the code for the garage door, it slowly opened and I stepped into my room. I guess the previous owners needed extra sleeping space than what the house offered because they had converted the garage into an extra bedroom, complete with AC and it's own half bathroom. Tossing my backpack on the bed in the far corner of the room, I trudged over to the large metal desk on the opposite wall. Various parts, circuits, and tools littered the top while sketches of potential inventions lined the wall above it. Taking a seat, I stared at the latest unfinished project on my desk. It looked like a small round speaker with a strap across the back. That's more or less what is was, but technically is was supposed to be a sonic disruptor. I had heard and read that the UA practical exam often used robots as targets. Doing some research, I learned that most electrical systems can be short circuited by a certain sonic frequency. The purpose of this device was to emit a blast of sound that would match that frequency thereby destroying the robots. But no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't get the damn thing to work. Picking it up in my hand, I took one last look at before turning around and angrily flinging it into wall, promptly destroying it. I then ripped down my sketches, crumpled them together, and chucked them in the garbage bin beside my desk.

_Chad was right. I'm nothing but a loser. How am I supposed to pass the practical exam when I can't even make a stupid speaker work? And how am I going to fight villains when I can't even land a single punch on a narcissistic jock? Some hero I would be._

Not even bothering to change, I kicked off my shoes and collapsed into bed, feeling the effects of the ibuprofen Mrs. Maxwell gave me for the pain. As I drifted off to sleep, Dr. Oliver's words continued to echo in my mind. _No hero's path is complete without pain and adversity. _But those words didn't concern me anymore. Everyone else was right: Chad, my classmates, my teachers, even Aunt Linda. I was never going to be a hero. And I was done trying to be one.

…

**And that's chapter 2. I hope you guys enjoyed it and I would really appreciate any reviews advice you guys have. It might be a week or two before chapter 3 is up since I'll be starting college here shortly. That's why I made this chapter a little longer. See you guys in the next chapter.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello everyone, sorry if this chapter is a little later than usual. I just moved back to college so classes have been keeping me busy. Thank you to everyone who has read the story and left there reviews. One reviewer stated that my paragraphs were a little to long so I think I broke them up better in this chapter. Please let me know if you have any suggestions or comments.**

**This chapter deals with some aspects of the MC's past so you can get a feel why he has some very serious fear and confidence issues. So with that in mind, here's chapter 3.**

…..

I was sitting on my bed with an open book in my lap. This wouldn't be weird except that the bed I presently rested on wasn't the one I remember fall asleep in. The various dinosaurs covering my blankets revealed to me that this bed was mine from seven years ago, as seven-year old me had begged my father to trade my plain grey bedding in for something cooler, to which he finally agreed.

Looking down at the cover of the book, I noticed something else that was strange. It was the secret copy of _Ricky-Tikki-Tavi _Uncle John and Aunt Linda had bought me for my seventh birthday. After Uncle John read me the story for the first time when I stayed overnight at their house, it became my favorite book and I begged my parents to buy it for me. They never did. I knew it was a long shot since my father despised books and reading in general, saying that it did nothing but fill your head with pointless hopes and ideas. Because of this, he convinced my mother that she was capable of teaching me everything I needed to know. As such, I was homeschooled until I was eight years old.

Now I use the word "homeschooled" loosely. Honestly, I believe the word "brainwashing" was more appropriate, since almost everything I learned had to do with superheroes in some way, shape, or form. I know what you're thinking. Don't kids love learning about superheroes? That makes the problem fun and interesting, right? Why's that weird?

Maybe the way you learned about them was fun and interesting. But my learning experience was a bit different. For example, here's a math problem I remember quite well. "If 100 people jump off a burning building and All Might catches 6 of them, then how many still fall to their death?" You want another one? Ok. How about science? "If Midnight doesn't reach a group of people trapped in an airtight room and they suffocate, not having enough of what gas is responsible?"

You guys getting a sense of crazy yet? Because tiny me sure didn't. Back then, those were just normal math and science problems to me. So I think it's safe to say that my parents were a little obsessed in their hatred of pro heroes. And they taught me to be the same way. It's not like I knew any better. My parents never let me watch tv, use the internet, or even leave the house or backyard except for the very few times they let me stay with Uncle John and Aunt Linda. Because of this, the only thing I knew about heroes and the world in general is what my parents told me. Little did I know that they were slowly but surely trying to mold me into the perfect supervillain by suggesting the world's pro heroes were nothing but utter failures.

Getting back on track, the thing that stood out about the book I held was how new and shiny it was. It's hardback cover still glossy and it's pages free of wrinkles or tears. Glancing around the room, I saw some familiar things, such as the old cream colored walls that were chipped and peeling in various places, a plain wooden dresser, and the worn down grey carpet. Basically, my bed was the only thing that stood out in my room. Everything else was dull and void of excitement or imagination. Just what every kid wants.

After I had gotten a good look, my mind churned in order to make sense of my situation.

_What the heck is going on? What am I doing in my old room? _

Confused, I slid off my bed. However, the drop was much further than what I expected. Turning to the mirror on the opposite wall, I understood why. Although I saw myself in the reflection, it wasn't the me I am now. This me was short and skinny, with bright close cut blonde hair and a mouth that was missing a few teeth. I knew this me all too well. This was seven year old me.

Lifting my hand to my face, I noticed my reflection did the same. Every time I blinked, he blinked. But that didn't make any since unless…

_Why am I seven years old? Is this a dream or something?_

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the front door opening and closing. Grabbing my book off the bed, I made my way to the bedroom door before opening it and quietly tiptoeing into the hallway. Just as I was about to reach the opening that led into the living room, I heard what sounded like voices. I stopped dead in my tracks and listened.

"Ya have a very lovely home, Mrs. Lane. Although I would say it's a bit too modern for my taste."

_I guess the whole copycat insane asylum look classifies as modern. Who knew?_

"Why thank you, Mr. Tempest. And please...feel free to call me Christina."

I didn't recognize the first voice, but the second sent chills down my spine. It was the voice of my mother. Yet there was something off about it. Usually it was cold and monotone, completely void of emotion. But now even though her voice maintained a sense of professionalism, it was also friendly and warm.

"All right Christina…" The unknown voice spoke. "Then it's only fair ya call me George. I haven't gone by the name Tempest in over a decade."

_So I guess this stranger is the hero they called Tempest. Why does that sound so familiar? If I remember correctly, I think he had the power to manipulate wind or something like that. But what was he doing in my parent's living room. Didn't he pass away almost eight years a…_

"No...it couldn't be." I whispered, my voice high and squeaky, like that of the little boy I currently was. "Please God, tell me I'm wrong."

I hesitantly looked back at the digital clock hanging on the hallway wall. The date read November 15th. Almost eight years ago, this was another day I'd never be able to forget no matter how much I wanted to.

_I have to get out of here. I can't go through this again._

I tried to run, but no matter how hard I tried, my body wouldn't move. It was like it was frozen in place. All I could do was clutch my book tight up against me as my body moved automatically and I inched closer to the opening. I thought about closing my eyes, but something inside me told me that wouldn't work either. It didn't matter what I did to avoid it, I was about to relive the second-worst day of my entire life.

Peeking around the corner, I saw that my mother was sitting on the couch with her back to me. Opposite her in the love seat sat an older gentleman dressed in a button down plaid shirt and a pair of khakis. A pair of thick rimmed glasses rested over his eyes and he was completely bald save for a few whisps of hair that sprung from his scalp. He looked to be in his seventies but easily could have been eighty. The way he slumped in his seat betrayed the wear and tear his body likely endured during his tenure as a hero. His mental state seemed pretty good despite his age. His eyes darted from side to side as if he were assessing a situation, likely a habit he had picked up over the years.

"Well then George, would you like a cup of coffee?" My mother said, rising to her feet.

"I'd love one. I appreciate the hospitality."

Nodding, my mother strolled into the kitchen before pouring herself and her guest some coffee from the machine. I noticed she was dressed very differently than usual. Her long blonde hair was tied up in a tight bun and she was wearing a pinstriped pantsuit over a white blouse. She was also sporting a pair of thin black bifocals as well as some black high heels. Of course I knew why she was dressed like this, but George had no clue anything was amiss.

Handing George his mug, my mother returned to her previous seat. He took a slow sip before setting his cup down on the table dividing them.

"Thank ya, young lady. The coffee is fantastic. Much better than the instant stuff I make at home."

"Of course. You are our honored guest after all." My mother replied with a seemingly genuine smile.

_DON'T LISTEN TO HER! YOU HAVE TO LEAVE!_

I attempted to speak but my mouth wouldn't move. All I could do was watch in horror as George returned her smile with one of his own.

"I'm flattered." He said "It's not often a journalist wants to interview some old retiree like me. After all, it's been quite a while since I put on the old spandex."

"That's a shame. You were one of the greats back in the day. If you were still in your prime, I'm willing to bet you could take down All Might."

"I may have been good, but I was never that good. All Might is on a whole different level than I ever was." George said with a chuckle.

"You're too modest. But I suppose you would be, since you're a hero and all." My mother commented, the fake smile still plastered across her face.

_DAMN IT! GET OUT OF HERE BEFORE IT'S TOO…_

I heard the sound of a vehicle door slam.

...late

Soon the front door opened and in walked a large, muscular man in his early thirties. His brown hair was buzz cut and his face clean-shaven. His attire consisted of a blue jumpsuit with multiple pockets and a pair of leather work boots. The moment he saw George sitting in the living room, my father's face twisted into a scowl. He hated having people in his house. He barely tolerated his brother stopping by for visits.

"Christina, what's this old geezer doing here?" He demanded, his voice deep and strong.

My mother quickly got up from her seat before hurrying over to her husband and clapping a hand over his mouth.

"Please excuse my husband. He just got off work from the shipyard so he's a little wound up." She covered. "Sweetie, can I talk to you in the bedroom for a second?"

Judging by my father slight nod, I'd say my mother dropped her act enough to get the point across.

"Sorry to be so rude George, but I need to speak with Mike privately for just a moment."

"Please don't apologize. I understand. Go right ahead."

"Thank you. Now come on dear…" My mother said before grabbing my father's arm and leading him into their bedroom on the other side of the house.

After they had gone, George took another sip of his coffee before chuckling to himself.

"Ah...young love. Something I wish I would've paid more attention to back in the day."

I wanted to run into the living room and scream in his face that his life was in danger. But I was still stuck peeking around the corner, my current body possessed by something other than my own mind. Desperately I tried to make my body move, but it remained perfectly still. I needed to get out of there because if I remember right then what happens next is…

My mother entered the living room with my father not far behind. But his face no longer showed any hostility. It was now all smiles. He extended an apologetic hand toward George.

"Sorry about before, old timer. I had no idea you were THE Tempest until Christina here told me. I'm a huge fan of yours."

George examined my father with his piercing eyes before relaxing his expression and clasping the hand with his own wrinkled one.

"No hard feelings, my boy. I know that job of yours probably works the dog out of ya."

"Damn straight." My father returned heartily.

"Fantastic," My mother interrupted, "Now, let's continue with the interview. George, would you mind if Mike joined us."

"I don't see why not. The more the merrier, right?"

"I can't argue with that."

My mother and father took their seats on the same couch she occupied earlier. My mother then picked up her clipboard and pen before asking the first question.

"Let's begin. Question 1: What's the hardest part of being a pro hero?"

The question looked like it hit George pretty hard because he sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity. Letting out a deep and almost pained sigh, he finally answered.

"The hardest part is knowing that you can't save everybody. No matter how hard you try or how powerful your Quirk, people are going to die and you can't do anything to stop that."

I couldn't see my mother's face, but I knew inwardly she was struggling to maintain her facade due to George's answer. The uneasiness in her voice as she replied confirmed my suspicions.

"That's a very noble response. It's comforting to know that you actually own up to your mistakes unlike the others?"

"Others?" George said with confusion.

"Nothing to worry about…I just meant heroes in general." My mother replied quickly, covering her slip up. Before George could comment, she changed the subject.

"May I ask the next question?"

"Oh...um...yes, go right ahead."

"Great. Question two: Even if you couldn't save everyone, did you always try?"

Again George sighed deeply but this time answered much quicker than the last, as if he'd anticipated it from the start.

"I've struggled with that same question many times, young lady. But when all is said and done, I believe I did my best to save everyone I possibly could."

All of a sudden, my mother seemed to calm herself, and when she spoke, the friendliness and warmth that was once there was gone completely. Instead, it was the cold and icy voice of the mother I knew all too well.

"Is that so." She said. "Then I only have one final question."

"Of course. What is it?"

My mother's voice turned deadly serious.

"Where were you twenty years ago on March 16?"

"Huh...what kind of question is that?" He replied, puzzled by its specificity.

"Just answer the damn question!" My father interjected, all hospitality absent from his voice as well.

"Well...uh...let me think…" George said while scratching his patchy bald head. "Twenty years ago, I believe I was stationed in a town a little east of here. What was it called again? Castford...Crescent Hill...no that wasn't it...ehhh."

"Crestview." My parents replied in unison.

"That's the one! It's been so long ago that I nearly forgot about it. Pretty place. And some darn nice people too."

"Quit your rambling, old timer. This is the last time we ask nicely. Where were you in Crestview on the night of March 16?" My father stated menacingly.

"Weren't ya listening? I told you I don't remember exactly where I was. You expect an old man like me to remember my exact location on some random date twenty years ago?"

"You really don't remember do you?" My mother said coldly.

"That's what I've been trying to tell ya? Sheesh, and I thought I was hard of hearing." George answered with a chuckle.

My father slammed his fist on the table, cracking the glass top.

"THIS ISN'T A JOKE, OLD MAN! BUT SINCE YOU THINK IT'S SO FUNNY, LET ME REMIND YOU OF WHAT HAPPENED THAT NIGHT! TELL ME, DO THE NAMES VINCENT LANE, FRANK WALLACE, AND MARY WALLACE RING ANY BELLS?!"

"H-Hey...let's take it easy now." George replied nervously. "Let's see, Vincent Lane, Frank and Mary Wallace you said…"

The way he furrowed his brow suggested that he was honestly trying to remember the names. But despite the effort, the old man came up empty.

"I'm really sorry you two. But if I met them I don't remember." He stated, genuinely apologetic.

My mother was the first to speak up, her tone still icy.

"That's because you didn't meet them. You stood outside on the street and watched a burning building collapse on their heads."

Suddenly, recollection appeared in George's eyes.

"Now I remember, that huge fire in the Main Street Apartments."

"Congratulations," My father said sarcastically. "You do remember. But it's too late now."

"What nonsense are ya babbling about?"

"Nonsense...Haha, did you hear that Christina? He called the death of our parents nonsense."

"Yes, I heard." She confirmed emotionlessly.

"Wait a minute. Are ya telling me that both of ya were there that night?"

"Well, we did live there after all. Christina was my next door neigh...heh, what am I saying? It's not like you care."

"Of course I care! I rescued over 50 people from that fire. I'm sorry to hear that you're parents weren't among them."

"Save your sympathy. What was it you said not five minutes ago? Christina, help me out here."

"He said that he always tried to save everyone, even those that would probably die."

"What more could I have done?! The building was going to collapse any minute. If I'd had gone back inside, I would have been crushed along with your parents." The old man defended himself.

"Oh I don't know. Maybe use your FUCKING QUIRK TO BLOW OUT THE FIRE!" My father screamed at the veteran hero.

"Ya think I didn't consider that option? If I used my Quirk like that and didn't produce a strong enough gust, I would only have made the fire larger and it would spread to the next building."

"YOU DON'T KNOW THAT! YOU DIDN'T EVEN TRY! AND THEN YOU HAVE THE NERVE TO SIT IN FRONT OF ME AND MY WIFE AND SAY THAT YOU BELIEVE YOU ALWAYS TRIED TO SAVE EVERYONE! OUR PARENTS BURNED TO DEATH IN A FIRE YOU COULD HAVE STOPPED!"

"I'VE HAD JUST ABOUT ENOUGH! SOME PUNK ISN'T GOING TO LECTURE ME ABOUT BEING A PRO WHEN IT'S CLEAR YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IT'S LIKE!"

Suddenly my father regained his composure as if he'd never lost it in the first place.

"You're right. I don't know what it's like being a pro hero. But I think my wife would agree with me when I say that you pro's are nothing but a joke. And it won't be long before we prove to the world that pro's are incapable of protecting the people in it."

"What's that supposed to mean?" George asked. He had calmed down as well but kept his guard up.

"Oh, you'll see." My father said before chuckling menacingly. "Actually, you won't because you're not leaving this house alive."

"THE HELL I WON'T. I'M TAKING YOU TWO TO THE AUTHORITIES." The old man countered before stretching his hands out towards my parents. A small cyclone of wind began to build in each of his palms as he prepared to subdue them and bring them into custody. However, the mini tornadoes suddenly ceased and George clutched his hands over his chest in pain.

"W-What's happening to me. My chest...so much pain." He spoke in between gasps.

"You seem pretty smart for an old man. Tell me George, do you know what the main component of blood is?."

Crouched over, George was in too much agony to answer so instead he just glared at my father.

"Oh, I guess Biology wasn't required back when you were at hero school was it? Then I'm sure you're dying to know the answer. It's water."

George was unimpressed or was hurting so badly he couldn't show otherwise.

"Here's another little piece of trivia. Yours truly awakened his Quirk not one week after the night you failed to save our parents. Want to take a guess what element it involves?"

The old man just wheezed.

"No answer? Well, it's water again." My father mocked with a smile. "If we're being technical about it, I can produce and manipulate currents in water as I see fit. And since blood is made mostly of water, that means I can control the flow of it as well."

George was now lying on his back and convulsing, his eyes beginning to roll into the back of his head.

"I've completed stopped the blood flow to your heart. As of right now, you're going into cardiac arrest. Don't worry, in a minute, you won't feel anything. You should be grateful you know,. Compared with how Christina disposed of the other heroes, your death is peaceful."

George convulsed a few more times before his body went completely limp. Giving it a gentle nudge with the toe of his boot, my father assured himself that the old man was dead. He then dug through the corpse's pocket and pulled out a set of keys. He then turned to my mother who had removed her fake glasses and taken her hair out its bun.

"Christina, well done with the reporter charade. I didn't think you'd have found him so quickly. Now, be a dear and take George back to his house. When the cops find him and determine the cause of death, they'll chalk it up to old age finally getting the better of him. Just make sure not to leave any prints."

"Yes my love." My mother replied, walking over to the former hero and rolling him up in the rug. She hoisted the roll onto her shoulder before opening the front door.

Meanwhile, I was doing my best not to vomit. I had just witnessed my parents murder a pro hero, for the SECOND time. I had tried to push the memory as far into the back of my mind as possible, but here I was reliving the moment in vivid detail. The worst part was that present me understood how evil my parents were, yet I still did nothing more to stop them than seven year old me.

_What could I have done anyways? I'm stuck in my past body without any Quirk. Even if I did have powers, it's not like I'd be strong enough to stand against my father who can literally stop someone's blood or my mother who can wipe away entire cities. _

And just when I thought the horrors were over, I accidentally bumped into the table behind me as I was finally able to move again and was attempting to stealthily retreat back into my room. This caused the vase resting on it to tumble to the ground and shatter, catching the attention of my parents.

"Is that you son?" I heard my father call.

I remained completely silent, praying he would let it go. But in my mind, I already knew what was going to happen.

"Don't ignore me boy. Quit hiding and come here. Now."

Again moving against my will, I found my young body carrying me to my father who proceeded to look down at me with his arms folded across his chest.

"Were you spying on us?" My father asked, anger present in his tone.

I didn't say a word. I just let my gaze fall to the floor.

Suddenly, my father raised his hand before giving me a hard slap on my right cheek. The force wasn't enough to knock me down, but it stung like hell. I glanced at my mother, still shouldering the rug, and saw that she stared back with the same emotionless expression she always wore around me. I don't know why I did it. It's not like I expected to find any sympathy. To her, I was nothing more than an object, a tool my father wanted to fashion for his own selfish purposes. He might as well have slapped the wall. She would have given the same reaction. My father's stern voice got my attention back to him.

"You answer me when I ask you a question! Do you understand?"

"Y-Yes s-sir." I stammered weakly.

"Now then, were you spying on us?" He asked again.

There was no use lying so I repeated myself.

My father continued to glare at me for what seemed like forever. Finally, he motioned for my mother to step back into the living room.

"Unroll it, Christina."

"Of course my love." She replied before setting the roll down and kicking it until it was completely unfurled.

"Come and look, son." My father commanded, albeit much less harshly than before.

I slowly stepped toward the rug until I stood right above the lifeless body of the hero formerly known as Tempest. The color had begun to drain from his face and drool was pooling from his mouth. His eyes were half open but contained no spark of life whatsoever.

"I know you think what we did here was cruel. But that man right there, son, was responsible for the death of both my father and your mother's parents. He deserved everything he had coming to him. Do you understand?"

_Oh I understand all right. You murdered an elderly hero in cold blood just because he was hesitant about risking the lives of others in exchange for saving your parents. _

Of course I sympathized with my mother and father to some degree. Watching your family be crushed by a building is enough to mess anyone up, but that didn't give them the right to judge whether George should have used his Quirk to try and extinguish the flames. And it sure as hell didn't give them the right to kill him. But there was no way I was about to say all this out loud. Instead my seven year old self replied with another simple "yes sir".

"Good. Now let's address the next issue. What have I told you about reading books like that?"

I had totally forgotten about the book I had snuggled against my body. Looking down, I saw that the cover was poking out from between my arm and side.

"Y-You said not to read anything unless mama is with me or you say it's ok."

"And did either of those things happen."

"N-N-No sir. B-But Uncle John and Aunt Linda gave it to me for my birthday when I spent the night. I-I t-thought it was ok with you. I'm s-s-sorry." I whimpered.

"Shall I punish it, darling." My mother asked coldly, as if beating me was just another chore, like taking out the garbage.

My father thought for a moment before answering.

"I'll let it slide this time. I'll have to have a talk with John and Linda so they don't do something like this again. But just so he's not tempted…"

My father reached down and snatched the book from my arm before opening it and tearing it in half. He then walked into the kitchen and tossed it into the garbage.

"That is all. You can go back to your room and finish your homework by yourself. Your mother will be busy the rest of the evening." My father replied.

I returned to my room and hopped onto my bed. I wasn't sure if facing my parents was scarier now than it was the first time around. But honestly it didn't matter, because I had done and said the exact same things I had back then. Even though my mind was older, I was just as Quirkless as seven year old me, and just as afraid. I began opening and closing my eyes, praying this nightmare would end. But every time I closed my eyes, all I could see was the lifeless face of Tempest, a man who was murdered because he didn't save enough people.

I opened my eyes one more time and finally woke up.

….

My eyes shot open and I felt sweat running down my neck and back. Still groggy, I rolled over to look at the alarm clock on my nightstand which indicated it was already 6PM. Remembering my dream, I lifted my hands and saw that they belonged to fourteen year old me and not seven year old me. Breathing a sigh of relief, I was happy that I was present me again.

_Damn, that was some nightmare. I thought I'd never have to face that memory again. Guess I didn't bury it deep enough._

I was startled out of my thoughts by a car door being slammed shut.

_I guess that's Aunt Linda. Man, she's home pretty late._

I heard the deadbolt to the front door unlock followed by the unmistakable crackle of paper grocery bags.

_That's right. Monday's grocery day. I should probably help her carry in the rest of the groceries._

My first attempt to get out of bed was a complete failure, and I collapsed back onto the sheets as a sharp pain rocked my body. My grogginess waning, I suddenly remembered why I was in bed to begin with.

_Oh yeah. I got the crap beaten out of me didn't I?_

Although the nurse had given me some painkillers, that was almost five hours ago so the effects were pretty much gone now. As such, I was unprepared to feel the full extent of my remaining injuries. Now knowing what to expect, I braced my hand on the bedpost before forcing myself to stand, teeth clenched as I struggled to cope with the pain.

Hunching over a bit to help ease the soreness in my ribs, I gingerly walked to the door adjacent to my desk before opening it and stepping into the kitchen. It was grand by no means but reasonably sized and had all the basic necessities i.e. fridge, stove, oven, microwave, etc. On the island in the middle rested a couple paper grocery bags, some of their contents poking out the top. I had just made it there when the front door (which was further down) opened and closed once again followed by my aunt strolling into the kitchen, two more bags in her arms. Just before reaching the island, she flinched in surprise as she saw me standing there.

"Jeez Kiddo! You scared the daylights out of me! I thought you were supposed to be at w...Oh my God!"

The groceries fell to the floor as Aunt Linda noticed my injuries, her hands cupped around her mouth in shock. Turning to the stainless steel fridge on my right, I understood the dramatics of her reaction. In the reflection I saw that my right eye was puffy and had almost completely swollen shut. Not to mention the various scrapes, cuts, and bruises on my face and arms where Chad had kicked me. Basically, it looked exactly like what had happened. I had gotten my ass handed to me.

Rushing over to me, Aunt Linda gently traced her hand along the side of my face as she got a better look at my wounds. She paused and inspected my eye then ran her hand under my shirt, the feeling of bandages confirming her suspicions. Since she was so close, the concern written all over her face was easy to see. However, it wasn't long before her concern morphed into rage.

"KALEB, TELL ME WHO DID THIS TO YOU RIGHT NOW! I'M GOING TO DRIVE OVER TO HIS HOUSE AND MAKE HIM REGRET EVER BEING BORN!"

As you might have guessed, Aunt Linda had a little bit of an anger problem.

"I'm ok Aunt Linda. I just fell down some stairs at school." I lied, trying to calm her wrath. I may have used that excuse one too many times because it was clear she wasn't buying it.

"BULLSHIT! YOU DON'T GET A BLACK EYE AND BROKEN RIBS FROM FALLING DOWN STAIRS! NOW TELL ME THE BASTARD'S NAME!"

Sighing, I figured I might as well tell her because just like my father, she wasn't one to let things go easily.

"Chad." I finally admitted. "His name is Chad Braxton and he's a football player at Reefside."

Seemingly satisfied, Aunt Linda helped me trudge to the living room before easing me onto the sofa, it's softness soothing some of my pain. After ensuring I was comfortable, Aunt Linda briskly headed toward her bedroom. I then heard what sounded like a closet door opening followed by a bunch of rummaging. Curious as to what she was looking for, it wasn't long before I found out.

About two minutes after entering, Aunt Linda emerged from the bedroom, a metal softball bat resting on her shoulder. But judging by the threatening grin on her face, I don't think she was headed to the batting cages.

"U-Um...Aunt Linda…what are you doing with that bat?" I asked nervously.

She looked at me, the calm smile still present on her face.

"Oh nothing you need to worry about Kiddo." She replied. "I'm just going to pay Chad a friendly visit."

Now it was my turn to not buy her story. I may have been many things, but stupid I was not.

"Is that all?" I responded while raising an eyebrow.

"And maybe break one of his legs while I'm there." The nonchalant manner in which she said that really creeped me out. Even so, I had to say something.

"Damn it Aunt Linda, you can't just go and break his leg with a bat." _Although I would pay quite a bit of money to see that actually happen._

"Of course I can. I was an All-American batter back in college after all. I'm more than capable of shattering a fragile leg bone." She said while taking a couple of practice swings.

I facepalmed.

"You know that's not what I meant. I was trying to say that you shouldn't break his leg."

"And why's that?" She asked, genuine confusion in her tone.

_Am I really having to explain to my 30 year old aunt why it's wrong to physically assault a student?_

"Other than the large number of moral issues, you could end his playing career and maybe even his entire future."

"I don't see a problem with that. An eye for an eye as they say." She stated, her malicious smile returning yet again.

_Ok. This argument is going nowhere fast. I shouldn't be surprised. Aunt Linda was never one to listen to reason. Looks like the only way to settle her down is to play my trump card._

As she began walking toward the door, I called out to her.

"You know Uncle John would agree with me."

This stopped her dead in her tracks. Turning around, I saw the anger briefly flicker in her face before melting away entirely. It was soon replaced by what looked like a feeling of shame and remorse. Leaning the bat up against the wall, Aunt Linda walked back into the living room before plopping down into the recliner opposite me. Letting out a deep sigh, she spoke.

"I know he would. It's just for once I want you to have some sort of fairness in your life. But I guess I let my emotions get the better of me. Sometimes I wonder why John even bothered to marry me in the first place. Just look at me, I'm a complete mess."

For those of you who are wondering, John was my dad's younger brother. But unlike my dad, Jonathan Lane wasn't a monster like my father. He was a true hero. What powerful Quirk did he have you might ask? That's the thing, he didn't have one. But that didn't stop him from saving hundreds of lives just like the pro heroes do. He served two tours in the Marines before retiring from active duty and enlisting in it's disaster relief program. He was there to help whenever people needed him be it during hurricanes, earthquakes, floods, whatever. During his time off, he went to college in Texas where he met Linda Holmes, the school's fiery red haired star softball player. Despite being polar opposites in personality, they fell in love and after they both had graduated, my uncle proposed and they were married a year later. Neither of them would ever tell me their entire love story, maybe because they thought I was too young back then. Even so, I knew enough about my uncle to ease Aunt Linda's mind.

"You're right. You are a mess..."

Aunt Linda raised her head to look at me, a frown visible on her face.

"I thought you were going to say something that would make me feel better."

I chuckled lightly before responding.

"You didn't let me finish. You're a mess. But so am I. And so was Uncle John. We all have our problems. He knew you better than anyone, so do you really think he didn't know that? He married you because he loved you and you did the same with him."

Hearing this, Aunt Linda got up from her chair before sitting beside me and pulling me into a hug. I endured the embrace for as long as I could before my injuries got the best of me.

"Ow Ow Ow." I winced as I felt the soreness of my ribs act up again.

Understanding she was the reason I was in pain, Aunt Linda quickly released me before apologizing.

"Oops, sorry about that."

"Don't worry about it." I replied with a wave of my hand.

Aunt Linda smiled again but this time it held no malice, only kindness.

"You know, sometimes I swear you're the one taking care of me. You remind me so much of John with that big heart of yours, especially when you try and hide it underneath that hard exterior."

At this, I smiled genuinely. Aunt Linda was the only person who could make me do that. If you looked past that hot-headed personality of hers, she had a heart of gold.

_Huh, maybe she and Uncle John weren't so different after all._

"Whatever you say. By the way, now that you're not going to jail for assault, what're you making for dinner."

She laughed. "I was planning on meatloaf, but since it looks like we both had a rough day, how about we order a pizza?"

"Sounds good. My stomach already hurts enough as it is."

"Ha Ha" She laughed sarcastically. "My cooking isn't that bad."

"The burn mark on the ceiling says otherwise."

"Alright Mr. Comedian, just for that little comment, you have to call in the order." She countered, handing me her cell phone.

I chuckled. "Fine by me. Chicken Supreme no mushrooms?"

"Is there any other way?"

Flashing a brief smile, I dialed the number from memory before placing the order. It was about 15 minutes before the delivery guy showed up with the pizza. Usually it was my job, but Aunt Linda had set the table since I wasn't exactly up to par. Thankfully, she always kept ibuprofen on hand so that at least suppressed the pain enough that I could walk normally. I guess being a former softball player taught her a lot about treating injuries. As we ate, I couldn't help but notice how much tastier tonight's pizza was compared to the stuff they served at lunch. Don't get me wrong. I wasn't being ungrateful for reduced price lunches. To me it just felt like most schools didn't really care about the poorer students enough to provide quality food.

Pushing the thought out of my mind, I glanced over to Aunt Linda, who was already wolfing down her fourth piece, a streak of sauce smeared on her left cheek. I tried desperately to hide the smile beginning to creep onto my face.

_I swear Aunt Linda's really just a kid in an adult's body._

My thoughts weren't too far from the truth. Although Aunt Linda was thirty, she looked almost exactly the same as she had during college. She was fairly tall for a woman, around 5' 6", and was in excellent shape. That was expected since she was Reefside High's gym teacher as well as their softball coach. She woke up at 4 A.M every morning to hit the gym before she had to clock in. And even though she was the one who convinced me to take weight training, I was not about that crazy athletic life. I liked my sleep too much.

Perhaps the most distinguishing feature about Aunt Linda was her natural crimson hair. Normally she wore it in a ponytail, but she had since changed into lounging clothes (her grey and orange alma mater softball hoodie and a pair of black sweatpants) and her hair fell freely around her slender face. Altogether, even if her personality left a little to be desired, Aunt Linda was a very beautiful woman. I could easily see why she was always getting hit on at school by both teachers and some of the older high school students. But Aunt Linda's heart would only ever belong to one man, and that was Uncle John.

Tragically, he passed away during my parent's decimation of Boston six years ago. He sacrificed himself to free some people trapped underwater by debris, drowning in the process. Words can't describe how much this hurt Aunt Linda. Having no other living relatives, she lost the most important person in her life. I was honestly shocked she volunteered to take me in since it was my parent's actions that resulted in John's death. Moving in with her was one of the few happy moments of my life, although it came at the cost of losing my uncle and over 3 million innocent people. Ironic isn't it?

I must have been unsuccessful in my attempts to hide my snicker because she quickly spoke up.

"What's so funny, mister?" She smirked.

"Nothing. It's just you uh...have a little sauce right here." I replied, touching my own cheek so she knew where it was.

"Oh...thanks for the heads up." She said and then used the bottom of her hoodie to wipe the sauce away.

_Classy, Aunt Linda. Real classy._

"You know that's why they invented napkins right?" I chuckled.

"Hey" She countered playfully. "It was a lot quicker that way."

"Whatever you say. Just don't come crying to me when you can't get that stain out of your favorite hoodie." I responded.

"Shut up, smart guy." She said before noticing the remaining half slice of pizza left on my plate. Changing her tone, she decided to ask me about it.

"Is something wrong, Kiddo? I know you're a little worse for wear but that hasn't messed with your appetite before?"

Yeah...I may have gotten beaten up more times than I'd like to admit.

I sighed deeply. There was no use trying to hide it. Aunt Linda was like a dog with a bone when it came to getting what she wanted. I knew she wouldn't leave me alone until I told her the truth.

"Just another bad dream."

"Your parents?"

Sometimes I think Aunt Linda was more perceptive than she let on.

I nodded silently.

"(Sigh) Even locked up, they're still making life miserable for you aren't they?"

"I guess so." I answered before asking a question of my own. "Um...could we maybe change the subject? It's not something I feel like talking about right now."

My aunt stared at me for a sputtering out an apology.

"Why did I say that?! God Linda, you can be such an idiot sometimes! Of course he doesn't want to talk about it."

Her reaction helped lift my spirits a bit. Even though I had lived with her almost seven years, Aunt Linda was still unsure of herself when it came to raising a kid. After all, she still had the maturity level of a college student. As such, heartfelt conversations weren't exactly one of her strongest skills. But if I'm being honest, I didn't care. I knew Aunt Linda was trying her best and to ask for anything more would be selfish.

"It's alright Aunt Linda. I'm ok, just a little rattled that's all. Quit beating yourself up. Let's just move on to something else."

My words seemed to calm her down.

"Sorry, I'm still no good at heart to hearts it seems. What do you want to talk about then?"

At first I thought about asking how her day went or something like that. But ever since I woke up, a thought kept running around inside my mind. Since the mood was already awkward and somewhat depressing, I decided to ask her what had been bugging me.

_Now is as good a time as any I guess. _

"Aunt Linda...did you honestly ever think I could actually make it as a pro hero."

"This again? I just told you I'm no good with this sappy stuff." She said. "But if you really want an answer...I think you definitely have the right mindset to be a…"

"CUT THE CRAP!" I snapped suddenly, startling Aunt Linda who rarely ever saw me lose my cool. Calming myself, I rephrased.

"Please, Aunt Linda. Just...tell me the truth."

Letting out a sigh, Aunt Linda's face became serious and she answered.

"No, I didn't."

I felt like the wool was finally gone from my eyes. How could I have ever have been so stupid to think I had a chance at going pro? What was I going to do even if I somehow managed to get into UA? My first opponent would tear my arms out of their sockets. I never stood a chance.

"But," she continued. "That doesn't mean I never thought you could be a hero. Like you, your uncle didn't have a Quirk, but he was still a hero to me and a bunch of other people. Same goes for your grandfather."

I looked up at her, the pain in my expression subsiding for a moment as her words comforted me.

"I know you better than anyone. You still want to protect others even if they're the same people that treat you like trash. You might try to hide it, but deep down you're a sensitive guy who carries the burden of your parent's actions on your shoulders."

She clenched her fist in anger.

"And I'll never forgive them for what they've done. To the world. To John. And to you. They deserve to rot in Hell!"

"Aunt Linda…" I began.

"Listen to me, Kaleb." She interrupted. "You have to quit feeling responsible for what happened. It wasn't your fault, no matter what anyone else says. You don't have to be a pro to help people. You can do it some other way. Be a firefighter or a police officer. But don't think you have to prove yourself to people. You don't owe them anything."

I sat in silence as the weight of Aunt Linda's words sank in.

_Did I only want to be a pro in the first place just to prove my parents wrong? Or was it because I thought it was the best way to help_ _other people? _

Either way, I realized my dream of going to UA and becoming a pro hero was nothing more than that. A dream. A fantasy. Aunt Linda was right, I could still protect other people, just not as a pro.

"I thought you said you weren't good with heart to hearts?"

She chuckled at this.

"I think I surprised myself. All I told you was what I thought you needed to hear."

I smiled slightly.

"Thanks, Aunt Linda. You really are the best."

"I know." She replied with a wink.

We sat in silence for a moment before I asked another question.

"Hey, can I ask you for a favor?"

"What is it?."

"Can you drive me to the courthouse?"

"I'm off next Tuesday so we can shoot for then. How come?" She asked, confused at my odd request.

"I want to change my name."

…..

**And that's chapter 3. I know I said I'd explicitly state why he hasn't changed his name yet, but I think it will be more impactful in the next chapter. But you probably already have an idea of why he wanted to change it until now. But I hoped you enjoyed it. Please review as I really want to make this story the best it can be. **

**Due to my classes, chapter 4 may take a little longer to put up, but I'll do my best. Till next time.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys, I know it's been a while but I've been dealing with a lot of personal problems these last couple months as well as trying to stay on top of my college classes. But I'm much better now and just finished classes until fall. **

**Also, I've decided to go a different direction with this story. I just couldn't figure out how to create a compelling story blending the elements of Power Rangers and MHA. However, the rewrite utilizes elements from another cartoon I'm pretty sure most of us are familiar with from childhood. It should definitely bring back the nostalgia!**

**Don't worry. The OC is still the same as in this story except I have made a few tweaks to his background for simplicity sakes. Plus I've taken the reviews from this story and did my best to fix them in the new one. Thank you all to all my readers and followers. Please read this new story as I know it will knock the old one out of the park. **

**The new story is called "Time for a Hero." Please read and review it. Thank you all so much.**


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